No Peace for Bad Men
by CriminalConsultant
Summary: After Jim's game with Sherlock has come to an end, Sebastian is forced to walk London alone. With the loss of his boss and his best friend among many other things, Seb is having a hard time coping. Jim's return could prove to be his saving grace or a downright disaster. [Three part fic, rating subject to change]
1. Chapter 1

As it happens, time doesn't heal all wounds. Everyday it hurt just as much as the last; never ever stopping, the pain pounded in his chest constantly. He entertained the possibility that it just hadn't been long enough and someday it might be easier. Eventually he would move on, get a new job, start a new life, be happy again. All he knew was that he still couldn't walk by that hospital, or drive by that street, it took all he could manage to stay in their flat. Two years later and Sebastian had never stopped missing Jim.

In those years the flat had fallen to pieces, he actively avoided it if he could. The furniture hadn't lasted three months after Jim's death; There were too many sentimental connections he hated himself for having. He remembered all the times they sat together on the couch - so he shredded it. He remembered every time he ate take-out opposite Jim in the kitchen - so he tore it apart. Painfully, he remembered lying lazily in bed while Jim slept on his chest. He burned the mattress. Other bits of furniture slowly trickled out of the flat, each subject to more rage than the last, until the flat was empty. Nearly everything James Moriarty had seen, touched, or even been near was gone.

Sometimes, however, he would pause. It was the times when he paused that he saved those little bits of Jim. meaningless things to anyone else, but no matter how badly it hurt, Sebastian still kept them. He saved a tie, Jim's favourite, the navy blue Alexander McQueen with little skulls. The tie had suited him. After smashing up a few drawers, a little glint of metal caught his eye on the rug. He greedily shoved the little tie pin in his pocket. Every single one of Jim's books lived through Sebastian's fits of anger. The books Jim read, the ones he hadn't, the ones he loved, along with the ones he hated, all hoarded on Sebastian crammed little shelf. He had smashed the laptop, it had been one of the first things to go. It was impossible to live knowing that the device that helped lead Jim to his death still rested in Sebastian's care.

As months wore on, Sebastian spiraled back into the addicted lifestyle he lived before he had met Jim. Once again he was a regular at the local bars, drinking until he was sufficiently sloshed, picking a fight for the hell of it, and getting tossed into the gutters to spend the night. It was cold, it was lonely, and he almost always had a higher ratio of alcohol to actual food in his stomach. He couldn't manage to pull himself out of the depression, his senses were dulled and he had simply stopped caring for himself. Eventually the alcohol stopped working and he started to feel again, so he moved onto drugs. It started with cocaine. Simple enough to get in London and it helped for the time being. He was gloriously numb for a while. Numb to the world, the pain, everything. That too stopped faster than Sebastian liked, the more he took the less it helped. He quickly moved to the next drug before the sadness settled in his chest once more. Heroin came next, Sebastian found he liked it more than cocaine. This time he almost felt better. He could forget about Jim for a few precious moments and nearly feel happy rather than the emptiness that cocaine had offered. When those effects began to dull down he reduced himself to taking whatever was at hand.

A year and a half in and a whole cocktail of drugs coursed through his veins at any given moment. He bounced from anesthetics to stimulants, anything to make it stop. His latest fix came from opium, it gave him the emotional detachment he so desired. But everything stopped eventually, either the money or the drugs. When the money stopped Sebastian found himself bent down on dirty linoleum floors, whoring himself out for another hit. The drugs began to bore him and somehow they too dwindled down to nothing. With the lack of substance, Sebastian was left in a very hollow state; feeling nothing yet feeling everything. He was quickly driving himself mad, becoming ever more desperate as the long days wore on.

A month before the two year anniversary of Jim's death, Sebastian tried to kill himself. At the time he felt so certain, so utterly sure that this was it. He had lived through nearly two years alone and he couldn't go another. For the sake of the parallel, he had half a mind to shoot himself like Jim; though he quickly found he couldn't bear to turn the weapon he loved so much upon himself. Instead he crossed into his bedroom, stripping the sheets and twirling it into one long rope. The motions were simple, his hands carried him around the knot with a distinct fluidness gained only from practice. He dragged the makeshift noose over to the stairs, deftly tying one end around the banister. It was silent as he climbed up over the railing, even his mind stayed miserably quiet as he looped the noose around his neck and pulled it taut. He let himself fall. The impact didn't snap his neck, rarely did when it came to suicides. It wasn't glorious or honourable in the least, but it was absolute and he needed that. Reflexively he gasped, trying to draw air into his crushing windpipe. For what seemed like a lifetime, he simply dangled there waiting for his body to give out. The corners of his vision began to blur as his rapid attempts at breath grew more panicked. He had nearly slipped out of consciousness when he heard something splinter and snap. He had not the strength nor means to investigate; he hardly felt himself drop to the ground, hitting his head on the stairs before blacking out at the bottom.


	2. Chapter 2

It was terribly bright when Sebastian finally came to; his hands flew up to his neck as he gasped for breath, still remembering the feel of the bed sheet under his chin. His head pounded making him shut his eyes tightly to will away the light. Disoriented, he tried to recall where he was. The last he remembered was falling as the railing broke. Given a few minutes, Sebastian finally summoned the strength to look around; he found the hardwood floors underneath him and slowly raised himself up. A small splash of red decorated the corner of a step, Seb cautiously felt for the spot on his forehead. As he looked up at the splintered banister he quickly became aware of the fact that he no longer wore his homemade noose. For the second time his hands flew to his neck as he spun around in search of the sheet. He found it not far from where he had landed, one end still tied tightly to the bit of wood while the noose at the other end seemed to have come undone. With the fabric piled up in his arms he climbed the stairs to return them to his bed.

All the sudden movements made his head pound. He popped into the bathroom to assess the damages more clearly. It wasn't as bad as he could have imagined, nevermind that his intentions were to kill himself. He gingerly washed away the crimson before wiping it dry and continuing on to the bedroom. As quickly as he could manage without sustaining vertigo inducing pain, he dropped the sheet onto his bed and dashed down to the kitchen to get some pain killers. Fumbling with the bottle briefly, he dumped a few pills into his hand.

"You certainly look like hell." An all too familiar voice said behind him.

The bottle dropped from Sebastian's hand, little white tablets went rolling across the tile floors. He spun around, quickly regretting it as his hand flew up to his throbbing head.

"Easy there, tiger. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

"I'm dead" Seb managed.

"Sorry, darling. this isn't heaven."

He braced himself against the countertop, gawking at the pale Irish man standing in front of him. At first glance he looked unchanged, but closer inspection told a different tale; Jim looked tired. His usually meticulously styled hair stuck out at odd angles, his heavy lidded eyes seemed darker than Sebastian had ever seen them. He had traded out his designer suits for a cheap navy jacket, its collar slightly frayed. Still he wore a familiar lopsided grin that cut into Seb like a razor.

Jim took a few tentative steps toward him as Sebastian instinctively reached out to touch him. Pushing up on tiptoes, Jim leaned up to kiss him softly. Sebastian quickly reciprocated, both tried to keep it simple, but two years of loneliness and longing prevented that. Soon Jim was pinned against the refrigerator as the two of them went at it like the poor sexually frustrated bastards they were. Neither wanted to separate for much longer than it took for them to regain their breath, both had needed this far too long to stop it now.

Jim was the first to remember their situation. Begrudgingly he stayed Sebastian's hand as it wandered to his belt.

"We should talk before we do anything."

Seb gave a tight nod before leading Jim over to the sofa.

"You moved out of our flat." Jim stated, trying to look up at him as naturally as possible.

"You usually paid for it."

"You could've afforded it, I left you enough money."

Sebastian sighed and dropped down heavily across from him. "Do you have any idea what your death did to me, Jim? I knelt down by your lifeless body, I gave the order to remove it. I had to live without you."

"Contrary to popular belief, I _can_ in fact comprehend that. I had to lay there while I watched you break down in front of me, I had to leave without telling you I was alive. I had to live without _you._"

"I thought you were dead." Sebastian said quietly

"Did you miss the fact that I just caught you trying to hang yourself, Sebastian?! I thought you could hold it together during my absence, I wanted you to run the empire but you fucked that up. You fell to pieces! I thought you were stronger than that."

"Don't you dare tell me I wasn't strong enough." Sebastian yelled, lunging forward to take hold of the front of Jim's shirt, "When you found me I was living in the gutters, this time I had something to lose. And now that something comes strolling in two years later only to tell me it wasn't that hard."

"You think it's been easy for me? I lived those same two years without you, but I could fucking hold it together." Jim sighed as Sebastian eased up on his shirt. He knew he had asked a lot from Seb, but he had never expected the man to be so broken up about it. He wasn't sure if he ought to be touched or angry, "I'm sorry, I had to leave. If I hadn't died that day, Mycroft would've made hunting us down his top priority."

"Where have you been hiding?"

"I started out in Ireland, but within a few months people started getting suspicious so I moved to Poland."

"You look like hell."

"You're the one with the bashed in forehead."

"It's not that unusual for us."

He glanced up as Sebastian gave him a small grin.

"You're staying, right?"

"If you'll let me."

Sebastian nodded, no matter how overwhelmed or upset he still was he still couldn't turn away the man he missed so much. Graciously Jim spent the rest of the afternoon humouring Seb's need for information. For once he didn't mock him for being dull, instead he watched as Sebastian's anger and pain slowly slipped away as time passed and he began to realise that Jim was really here to stay. In a few short hours he was caught up with the two years they had spent apart and, if Jim was very lucky, nearly at an understanding of why he did it.

Jim didn't push Seb to recount his own two years, he knew more than he would have liked. However there were bits that simply could not go unmentioned.

"Are you okay, Seb?"

He looked taken aback by the question, his eyes dropped to the floor, looking rather ashamed, "I think so. I mean, I won't try to, you know, again. Honestly I don't know what I was thinking, I think I would've regretted it. It just didn't seem like I had any other choices. You were right to say I fell apart, because I did. Now that I realise that, I wish I hadn't spent so much time with all that useless self-loathing."

"I'm sorry, I wish there had been a better way."

"I don't blame you." He admitted.

Jim nodded, "Look, Sebastian, I haven't gotten a decent nights sleep in over a year. Could I...?"

"Of course, my bedroom is just upstairs."

"Would you want to...?"

"Would you care if I...?"

They both looked at each other and Jim wordlessly followed Sebastian up to the bedroom. Seb offered up a pair of his old sweatpants and a T-shirt which Jim took, sheepishly undressing. He could feel Sebastian eyes on him as he tugged on the shirt, well aware that his physique had changed quite drastically in their time apart.

It was up an unexpected relief to crawl under the covers, instinctively Jim edged closer to Sebastian. Living on the cold streets he could endure, but Sebastian's body heat was the one warmth he had truly missed.


End file.
